Not unlike the wind
That blows and hums and screams–
That’s what you are to me.

Not unlike the wave
That comes and goes and drifts–
Near and then away, you seem.

Not unlike the fire
That churns and burns and eats–
That’s what you do to me.

Not unlike the earth
That turns and buries and bleeds–
Wasted and used up, like this.

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